


It's all Elementary

by littlescienceloves, ruthedotcom



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Elementary School AU, F/M, bad 'Lizzie McGuire' inspired drawings, students shipping teachers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:36:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5171414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlescienceloves/pseuds/littlescienceloves, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthedotcom/pseuds/ruthedotcom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Fitz and Miss Simmons are both kindergarten teachers at the same elementary school. Just co-workers. Nothing more. Nope. No matter what any of their friends (or students) say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a [tumblr prompt](http://blogginghaley.tumblr.com/post/120153055459/were-both-teachers-and-all-our-students-ship-us) and just sort of escalated from there.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobbi and Hunter don't understand why Jemma and Fitz can't see what's drawn out in front of them. No, really -- literally drawn out in front of them.

 

“I think it’s cute,” Bobbi said, pouring herself another glass of wine. “The last time Hunter stopped by class, one of the first graders drew a picture of him as Darth Vadar.”

Jemma simply stared at the drawing. “But should I address this? It is the fifth drawing. This week. Really, I don’t know where the kids are getting these ideas. Fitz and I are just friends. And yes, he teaches the other kindergarten class. And sometimes we work together. And, you know, it really was smarter for us to carpool. And then, of course, I have to feed him from time to time or he’ll probably only eat complete and utter junk. Really, who else am I supposed to talk to on breaks or during recess duty? And, sure, his eyes are beautiful and he has a nice and symmetrical face. But. We are just friends. Coworkers.”

Bobbi nodded. “Yeah, I have no idea where the kids come up with these crazy ideas…”

\---------------------------------

“Is this supposed to be you?” Fitz asked. “The one with the–”

“God awful mustache and hair cut that looks like Darth Vader? Yeah.” Hunter took another swish of his beer. “Mental, these kids. All of them need to get their eyes checked.”

Fitz picked up the paper and studied it closer, “I don’t know, they got the height difference right.”

Frowning, Hunter snagged the paper out of Fitz’ hands and put it face down on his desk, unable to crumble it up entirely because Bobbi would murder him. He hated it, so naturally, she found it amusing. 

“Well,” Fitz started, pulling out his phone, “at least they haven’t drawn hearts for your eyes and keep asking you when you’re going to marry Jemma.”

“Jemma?”

“Yeah, uh, Jemma Simmons? Teaches right next door? Brown curly hair, about my height–”

“I know who she is. Bobbi’s mate, the one who judges the science fair every year.” Fitz didn’t say anything for a moment, and Hunter looked over and saw him smiling at his phone. “What are you so smiley about?” 

Fitz glanced up, laughing and pointing to the screen, “Jemma sent me this pun about rocks, it’s hilarious,” he told Hunter, shaking his head in amusement and going back to texting. 

Hunter stared at him for a good long time. “Heart for eyes, huh?”

“What?”

“The kids, they’re drawing hearts in your eyes. For Jemma.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah.” Fitz nodded and caught Hunter’s eyes, rolling his own when he did. “Mental, those kids. Jemma should give them all eye check ups.”

“Right after she removes the hearts from yours…” Hunter mumbled, but Fitz didn’t hear. “At least the kids got that right.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m very happy for her. A vice principal position, over at the academy of all places. Ms. Weaver definitely deserves it. It just… complicates matters.” Jemma looked around the break room, as to confirm that they were the only two there. “Because, of course, I’ll get the position. Who else has the qualifications to teach science to the entire school? Fitz will probably be crushed. I know he has his eyes on the job. I can’t help it that vice principal May adores me, and, of course, principal Coulson thinks of me like family. I babysit his foster daughter, Mary Sue, sometimes.”

Bobbi laughed. “Ah, trouble in paradise. I can just see it. Intense competition. You two will stop talking. I’ll have to console you with bottles and bottles of wine.” 

Jemma bit her lip. “This isn’t going to go well, is it?”

“Pure chaos,” Bobbi answered. 

Over in the play yard, though, a very different conversation was going on. 

“So, you’re going for the science job, right?” Hunter asked, his eyes trained on a very intense game of football (proper, thank you very much) that he was technically supposed to reffing. 

“Jemma’s much more qualified. She deserves it. Actually, um. I was thinking,” Fitz uncrumpled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Maybe. Maybe the kids are right.”

“Don’t do it. Women are hell.”

“You’re engaged to Bobbi,” Fitz pointed out. 

“Exactly,” Hunter said. He looked at the picture. “It does look like you though, mate. I wish you luck.”

Fitz just smiled weakly and looked back at the picture.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hello, sir,” Jemma said, walking into the house. “Where’s Mary Sue? I can’t wait to spend time with my favorite little rascal. You know,” she continued, her voice softer, “the last time I was over she taught me how to dismantle the school’s internet security settings. For fun. I wasn’t sure whether to be worried or impressed.”

Which was when the little girl came barreling into the room, running straight for her father’s arms. Without missing a beat, he caught her and spun in a circle. When he put her back down, the little girl looked very seriously at Simmons and said, “Jemma.”

“Mary Sue,” Jemma responded, her voice just as serious. 

“It’s Skye now,” she corrected. “Daddy’s putting through the adoption papers and he said I get to have a new name. Because now I’m a Coulson. So I said I don’t like Mary Sue, that’s what they called me at the orphanage. And daddy calls me his sky and his stars. So I told him I want to be Skye now.” 

“That’s a beautiful name,” Jemma smiled. She glanced over at her boss, trying to gage his feelings on the matter. But he was far too busy staring at his daughter with a look of absolute adoration. 

“Miss Simmons, you know where everything is. I won’t really have access to my phone tonight, but I’m sure there won’t be any troubles. And Skye,” he turned to face his daughter, “be good for your babysitters. I’ll be back past your bedtime, so sweet dreams and I love you most.” 

The door had already closed when Jemma managed to ask, “Babysitters?”

Skye simply grabbed her hand and dragged her into the living room. Where a certain Leo Fitz was already sitting on the couch. 

“What are you doing here?” Jemma asked, confused. 

Skye didn’t give him a chance to answer. “I asked for both of you. Daddy thought it was a good idea. He says I’m ‘a handful’. And then he said you two are super cute together. And I said you should get married and have little babies.”

“Oh, that. Well that is wildly inappropriate and clearly. We aren’t. We aren’t even together and, in addition, we. Um…” Jemma trailed off. 

But Skye just smiled and yelled, “WE SHOULD PLAY HOUSE!” 

Which they did. For three hours. Jemma found it a bit suspicious how Skye kept insisting that the two of them were married. And calling them Mr. and Mrs. Fitzsimmons? That was just absurd. 

But. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it was awfully nice playing house with Fitz. Natural, even, she thought, putting the final touches on dinner (a prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella sandwich for Fitz, grilled cheese for Skye). She watched as Fitz helped Skye draw at the kitchen table, joking and giving her silly suggestions (Jemma wasn’t sure how a monkey factored into the whole thing, but apparently it was necessary). 

And she had just as nice a time eating dinner. And getting Skye through her nighttime routine. She especially loved hearing Fitz read the goodnight stories (he did the best voices). 

Which was tragic, really. Because he obviously hated her now. All because of that stupid job. 

They were sitting in the living room, side by side on the couch. Jemma was wearing a toy tiara and Fitz had on a feather boa, all of which Skye claimed was necessary for her to fall asleep. Which took roughly three picture books, two runs for water, a trip to the bathroom, and one slight temper tantrum. But there they were, alone, Skye finally asleep upstairs. And they were absolutely silent. 

Jemma spoke first. “This. This was really nice. I was worried with the, well with the job and all. And you’ve been awfully quiet these last couple of days. I really don’t want there to be any competition or hostility. And I understand if you feel differently, but I. Well, I’ve missed talking to you and-”

“You think I’m angry about the job? I told Coulson he should give it to you,” Fitz said, as though it should have been obvious all along. “You’re the best person for it, really. No. I. Um. I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

“Really?” Jemma asked. “This isn’t about the job?” Her voice sounded relieved. She straightened up in her seat. “If you need to talk, I happen to particularly good with advice.”

“Actually, I asked Skye for some advice earlier. I’ve, um, I’ve been having trouble with how to handle something. See, I like someone and well… Skye told me that I should ask her to dinner. Somewhere nice. But, apparently, first, I have to ask her if she wants to ‘make it official’, Skye’s exact words, and then give her this.” He handed Jemma a picture. “So, what do you think?” 

Jemma simply pulled Fitz into a kiss. 

When they broke apart, Fitz looked dumbstruck. “Really? Yeah?”

And Jemma said, “Yes.”


	4. Chapter 4

Six months. Six months of stolen kisses in the break room, the occasional double date with their respective best friends, and countless inquiries from small children (the best of which, Jemma was fairly positive, was when one of the five year-old’s asked if Mr. Fitz kept his face ‘prickly’ because that’s what happens to boys when they have a girlfriend. Fitz took this as a sign he should shave. Jemma told him not to). A summer of working together on articles about classroom learning techniques and marathoning Doctor Who. Getting Jemma’s science classroom ready and preparing for new students. And, of course, co-babysitting, from time to time. 

Yes, Jemma had never been happier, she thought, daydreaming while she cleaned up after a thrilling (and messy) class that involved both first graders and earthworms. 

Which was when Skye barreled into the room. “I’ve decided to marry Trip,” she announced. 

“Antoine Triplett? I thought you were getting married to Grant Ward?” Jemma asked. 

Skye shook her head. “It turns out he has cooties. But Trip loves me. And he gave me pink flowers.”

Jemma looked over from her desk. The little girl was simply nodding, as though what she said was a big deal. 

“Pink flowers means you are engaged.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” Jemma said, trying to keep her tone serious. “It must be an American custom.”

Skye nodded. “They were for pretend. Cause only grownups give each other real flowers and get married for serious,” she paused. “What was it like when you got married to Mr. Fitz?”

Jemma practically choked. “We arent. Skye, sweetheart, we’ve only been dating for six months. We aren’t married. Not even engaged.” 

Skye thought about this for a moment. “You mean, Mr. Fitz hasn’t given you pink flowers yet?”

“Definitely not.” 

Skye’s little brow furrowed, as though she was thinking this over, before heading straight out of the room. And walking to Fitz’ class. 

“Mr. Fitz,” she started. “I need to teach you about flowers.”

\---------------------------------

Fitz was not about to let a little girl make such a huge life decision for him. Get engaged? That was ridiculous. Yes, he had known Jemma for a long time. They had worked together for years. But, really, they had only been dating for? Six months, eight days, and, (Fitz quickly checked the time) 15 and a half hours. And getting married. That was… huge. Not something you just jump into.

And the wedding related drawings were… pushy. That was it, he thought, looking at Skye’s latest picture (which she had left taped to his classroom door). 

  


He would do it when he was ready. When they were ready. 

“What are you looking at?” Jemma asked, walking into his classroom.

“Oh, um. Something one of the kids made.” He slipped the picture into the middle of a stack of traceable number worksheets. 

Jemma smiled. “You ready to go home?” 

And he knew she was talking about driving back to their respective apartments, since they carpooled to work. Possibly even ending up in one place for dinner and some netflix, working on lesson plans side by side, the occasional distraction of a quick kiss. Or maybe more, bodies draped together, waking up for a lazy Saturday morning with her head against his chest. 

So, he said, “Yeah.” But his mind was on other things. He was very busy thinking about pink flowers. 

\----------------------------------------- 

When Jemma walked into her classroom a couple of weeks later, they were everywhere. Origami flowers on the tables, scribbled drawings, all over the walls. And real flowers, too, completely covering her desk. 

Every single one of them was pink. 

“So, apparently, pink flowers mean a lot in the states,” Fitz said, sitting in her desk chair. 

“Really?” Jemma was already smiling. “I had heard something about that.”

“Yep. And it turns out that the students get really excited to help with this sort of project.” Fitz got up and walked towards Simmons. “Jem,” he started, his voice more serious. “I-”

But she didn’t let him finish. “Yes.”

“Hey, I was… I’m trying to do this properly, you know? At least let me finish-”

“Asking the question. I know, I know. Sorry.” They were right next to each other at this point. “In a way, you have already shown me,” she gestured towards the room.

“Not everything.” 

And he was down on one knee, ring out. Jemma met him on the floor, kissing his forehead, cheeks, the tip of his nose. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“You still haven’t let me ask,” he pointed out. “Will you marry me?”

Jemma continued kissing a line along his face, finally settling on his lips. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

\------------------------------------

“Skye, what’s this?” Jemma asked a few days later. The walls in her classroom were still covered in drawings. But now there was a new one, taped to her computer screen.

“It turns out I am magic,” Skye explained. “If I draw things, they happen. I drew you and Mr. Fitz getting married and now it is going to be for real. So, there’s something I want,” she pointed to the picture. 

Jemma laughed. “Hmmm, I think I can arrange that.”

“Good.” Skye smiled. “I have a lot more things to draw then.”

  



	5. Chapter 5

One of her favorite teachers was sitting on her after school bench when she got there. He didn’t sit in the middle of it, though, so she had enough room to scoot up on it next to him. “Watcha doing, Mr. Fitz?”

Mr. Fitz looked up from his phone. “Oh, hello, Skye. I’m just checking my emails before I head home. Gotta check them now, or I’ll ignore them until Monday,” he said, smiling. “What are you still doing here?”

“I’m waiting for my dad to pick me up,” she told him, leaning over so she could read Mr. Fitz’s watch. 2:43. He should be there soon. “It’s Friday, so he goes to meetings all day, and then stops for DJ’s Burgers on the way to get me.”

“Ah,” Mr. Fitz said, nodding. Skye nodded right back. He put his phone away and crossed his arms over his chest. “That sounds nice. The burgers, I mean.”

“It is,” Skye agreed. It was the best, actually, but her dad said it’s not nice to boast. “Mr. Fitz, is Miss Simmons going to stop teaching to be an astronaut?”

Mr. Fitz blinked at her a few hundred times. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“She wasn’t here today, so I thought maybe she went back to work with NASA. She was gone for a long time before.” Miss Morse was the substitute science teacher for Miss Simmons, and she was nice and all, but she wasn’t her tied-for-first favorite teacher.

“Miss Simmons is not leaving to be an astronaut, Skye. To tell you the truth, she was pretty much dragged into the whole situation in the first place, so I don’t think she would be too excited to go back. Unless she really had to, I suppose.” And then he dropped his head close to hers and put a hand up on one side of his mouth, and when he talked, his voice was low and quiet. “And between you and me, there’s a lot of funny business going on in NASA.”

Skye was going to ask what was so funny about their business, but Mr. Fitz was already talking again, at normal volume. “Miss Simmons wasn’t feeling well today, is all, and took a day off.”

That was even more confusing than the last thing he said. “But don’t you take days off together?”

“What?”

“Mr. Hunter said you like to take sick days off with Miss Simmons so you can ‘suck face’ or something,” Skye explained, repeating what she’d heard Mr. Hunter tell Miss Morse.

Mr. Fitz sat up so quick in his seat, it almost scared Skye right off hers. “He—he said— I don’t—” And then his face got really red, kinda like when she caught her dad talking to some guy named Steve in his mirror. Mr. Fitz held the bridge of his nose for a few seconds, and then rubbed his eyes before he finally looked at her. “See, Mr. Hunter, he says… things that he means, but you should not – he sometimes – you shouldn’t take anything he says too seriously.” 

“Yeah, I don’t listen to him that much anyway,” Skye told him. “He said Miss Morse was a hell beast one time, and that’s not true.” She was too cool to be from hell, obviously.

Mr. Fitz looked up at the sky and back down, shaking his head a few times.

“Could you tell Miss Simmons hi for me? I missed her today,” Skye said.

His face got kind of pink, but it was a happy sort of pink. It was his Miss Simmons face. “Yeah, of course. You know, she showed me your report on earthquakes. It was very good.”

Skye smiled proudly. She had drawn the tectonic plates all by herself. “Thank you, I worked really hard on it.”

She was going to ask his opinion about the earthquake predictions for California when she heard the sound of a car, and turned to see her dad driving up in Lola. He had his silly sunglasses on.

“Good afternoon, Fitz,” her dad said, waving.

“Afternoon, sir. How were the meetings?”

“That’s classified,” he said, which made Mr. Fitz laugh, but made Skye sigh (she got those words a lot). “You ready to go, Skye?”

“Yep,” she said, and jumped off the bench, and started to walk over to the car until Mr. Fitz called her name. When she turned around, he was down on one knee in front of her and pulling something out of his bag.

“Almost forgot,” he said, and handed her a small white envelope. “Give this to your dad, yeah?”

“What is it?” she asked, picking at the seal, but he did that annoying thing grown ups do when they smile and don’t answer the question.

“You’ll see,” he said instead, standing up. He walked her to Lola and opened her door, though, so she couldn’t be too mad at him. She waited a whole seven minutes while her dad and Mr. Fitz said goodbye and they were driving off until she tore open up the envelope.

 _Save the date_ , it said at the top. A picture was on the front; Mr. Fitz was making his Miss Simmons face, like before, and Miss Simmons was making her Mr. Fitz face, too. When she opened up the card, another sheet of paper slipped out.

“Hey!” she said, pointing to the second picture. “That’s me!” Skye held up the sheet for her dad to see.

“Wow,” he said, pulling off his sunglasses real quick to take a better look. “There’s a note on the back—Dear Skye—”

“Let me read it!”

> _
> 
> Dear Skye,
> 
> We know you’ve been waiting for this for a long time, so we thought we’d officially ask… Will you be our flower girl?
> 
> Love, Mr. Fitz & Miss Simmons
> 
> P.S. Please excuse the abnormal size of the daisy—Mr. Fitz got a little carried away with the drawing! But they’re actually not quite that big in reality (I’ll talk about flowers in a few weeks, you’ll see).
> 
> _

“Fitz drew that?” her dad said after she read the message out loud. Skye wanted to sigh again. Of course he would miss the whole point of the message. “He’s something else.”

“Yeah. I heard Miss Simmons tell Miss Morse that he has really talented hands.”

When her dad stopped choking (“on some terrible mental images”), he said she could of course be the flower girl, but that he wasn’t sure if she could automatically assume Trip would be the ring bearer (but that was okay; she would go home and start drawing immediately. That usually seemed to work).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye is magic and wants to go to Jemma's chicken party.

“Ms. Simmons, did you tell my daughter that she has magic powers?”

Simmons looked up from her spot in the teacher’s lounge, utterly confused. “What, sir?”

“Skye has informed me that you gave her ‘scientific proof’ that she ‘is magic’,” Coulson said, using overly exaggerated air quotes.

“Oh,” Jemma sighed. “Yes, well, Skye seems to think that whatever she draws comes true. Obviously, there is no true basis for this... though I can see where she got confused since Fitz and I are engaged, which, clearly, we did not decide solely based on our students’ drawings and, really, I had hoped my lesson on experiments and hypotheses would have properly established that-”she paused. “No, sir. I did not give Skye scientific proof that she has special powers.”

“I woke up with this taped to my Captain America alarm clock this morning,” Principal Coulson held up a drawing. “Skye says this means she can stay up ‘extra late’ and go to your ‘chicken party’,” again Coulson used air quotes.

“Oh, does she mean my hen night? Well, isn’t that adorable,” Jemma smiled. “I’ll talk to her after class and sort everything out. Don’t worry, sir.” 

\--------------------------------- 

“Bobbi, do you remember how you were planning a wild hen night?” Jemma started the next day during recess. 

“No. Do not back down on me now, Science,” Bobbi said, eyes trained on the play yard. “Ward! I saw that- that’s a warning, mister.” 

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t have a hen night... I was just thinking that it might be fun if it was a hen day... and child friendly.” 

“Jemma, you cannot let a second grader control your life.”

“Skye made some valid points. She did help us admit our feelings to each other, after all.”

“I am not about to make your bachelorette party kid friendly. We are surrounded by kids all the time. You need to learn how to separate your work life and your home life.”

Jemma ignored her and continued, “Also, I invited Vice Principal May. And no alcohol, please, Skye gets her hands on everything and I’d prefer not to make a fool of myself in front of one of our superiors. And I have been rather exhausted after that whole NASA debacle, you know Fitz and I are still doing some research for the case. So, let’s keep it short. Afternoon, early evening, perhaps?”

Bobbi rolled her eyes. “So, I’m throwing you what? A bachelorette tea party?”

Jemma nodded. “Oh, that sounds lovely.” 

And it would have been, if everything went as planned. Instead, two weeks later, Jemma ended up locked in the bathroom with Vice Principal May in the middle of the afternoon... completely covered in tea. 

**Author's Note:**

> We don't really have a set plotline for this story, it's more just when we have an idea, really. But we both really love it, so it probably won't be done for a while :) thanks for reading! (if you wanna chat with us on Tumblr, we're at [blogginghaley](http://blogginghaley.tumblr.com/) & [omgfitzsimmons](http://omgfitzsimmons.tumblr.com/)!


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